The Legacy: Jonathan Thomas Evans (aka Tomorrow)
by zooropa1
Summary: The Legacy with two original characters. (Precedes Stargate Legacy.) Spoiler alert for the end of the series.


Jonathan Thomas Evans was forty when his stepfather passed away. He arrived home in Dublin to find his sister's family already in attendance. He was never close to the Edge but came to pay his respects. He was also curious as to how his mother Ville managed to summon him without any conventional communication. He simply woke up one morning and knew he had to come.

Now he was having a similar sensation when he woke up on an airplane over the North Atlantic headed for New York. He had no idea how he'd got there. The first thing he noticed was his knee wasn't hurting anymore - no joint pain. Then he noticed the skin on the back of his hands - taut and unblemished.

On his shoulder, drowsed a young woman with dark burgundy hair - not the silver grey she'd had at the funeral. "Ma?" he whispered, "Ma, wake up."

"Hmm?" She looked up at him - a beautiful young woman, she appeared no older than mid-twenties. "Are we landing?"

"No, but they're handing out the customs cards. I don't even have a wallet on me. How the hell did we get here? What's happened to us?"

"Shhh, wake me on final approach," she lay her head down again.

Jonathan avoided the steward's eye. He was sure they didn't go to the airport, let alone board a plane. He had no boarding pass, no passport, no i.d. on him. They were on an international flight to America; how did his mother expect them to enter the country? She was a citizen but he had a feeling she had no more documentation than he.

Finally she sat up and stretched. "Are we there yet?" she quipped.

"Not funny. Do you understand how much trouble we're in?"

"Stop worrying, we'll be fine."

_'__And how have you managed to look so young?'_ he thought.

"Never ask a lady about her age," she chided.

"Do have any idea how weird this is?"

"Watch and learn."

At the airport, she was amazing. Instead of getting in line for customs, she spoke to a security guard who spoke to his supervisor who led them to a secure entrance to the terminal concourse outside the TSA secure zone. They walked past baggage claim and out the door.

"How did you do that?" he asked in awe.

"Persuasion. Watch and learn," she repeated.

Her next feat was scoring a ride into the city with a local band whose van was parked in long term. She talked the business with them, claimed she'd seen their show at some club. The group accepted them and offered them a ride in exchange for help loading the drums. She kept them engaged in conversation the whole trip; she knew one of their songs and details of their performance. Jonathan kept quiet and simply nodded to the female bass player who was clearly interested. He decided the fastest way to ward her off was to hold Ville's hand and pretend they were a couple.

As they waved goodbye, Ville announced, "I'm hungry. We're in New York City - let's get a pizza!" She headed down the block and around the corner with Jonathan in tow. They found a place called Rodolfo's.

"I don't know about you but I don't have any money."

"Watch and learn." They headed inside. Ville greeted the owner in boisterous Italian. Rodolfo hugged her and they conversed in his native language. Strangely, Jonathan gradually realised he could understand the gist of what they were saying although he'd never learned a foreign language in his life.

Ville was recounting a trip to, not just Italy, but the area where Rodolfo's family was from; she raved about how beautiful it was, about specific people - acquaintances of his family. The pizza was an afterthought for Rodolfo and he would never accept money from her, he said.

They sat and ate. "Okay, what the fuck is going on - how are you doing that?"

Ville groaned in pleasure as she tore into the pizza slice. "This pizza is amazing! Well, once you learn to hear people thinking, it's easy."

"You read minds?!" he tried to keep his voice down. "Even if I believe that, isn't what you're doing unethical? You're lying to these people."

She scoffed, very unmotherly-like, "Like you've never lied to anyone. And actually it's not lying. In the van, the singer was reliving the performance of a particular song so I picked out enough detail to weave into a narrative.

"And Rodolfo is proud of his heritage and he should be very proud of this food. This has got to be the best I've ever tasted," she enthused.

Jonathan shook his head. This was all a bit much yet it made a weird sense. "But how did we end up like this?" he gestured at his appearance and hers.

Ville shrugged, "It happens sometimes. Frankly, I didn't know you'd make the jump with me. I guess the bond between us is stronger than either of us figured."

"You don't seem too flummoxed by this turn of affairs," he observed. "What's the deal?"

"Honestly, I don't why it took so long. I never expected," she seemed to sober up a bit, "to have to bury Edge, too." She paused to maintain her composure but looked up at him with moist eyes. "That was hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I really did love him. You know I've lived, I don't how many lifetimes but I never married anyone before."

"Lifetimes?"

"Let's finish this and go to the park."

They strolled through the park and she told him a story about a luminous being made of energy who learned to take corporeal form. A creature who had witnessed the rise of the human race; who learned to emulate and communicate with this new species; who one day hoped to see the next step in human evolution.

"But what about me? And Kelly?"

"Kelly is entirely Edge's child; I copied and manipulated his genetics to avoid any defects. She's essentially a clone. You, on the other hand, are a combination of your father's DNA and a helix I wrote. That's how you could be conceived after he died."

Jonathan sat down heavily on a stone wall. "So you're not really my mother; I'm just some freak…."

"No, no," she sat next to him. "You are my son. I gave birth to you. You were very precious to me and I was heartbroken when I couldn't find you. They robbed us of eighteen years together but now we have a chance to get some of that back."

"Yeah, but look at us," he laughed, "People think we're together."

"I know, isn't it great?!" She laughed at his embarrassment. "It'll be easier for us this way, trust me. Now, we should find a place to sleep tonight."

She took a different tack this time. He didn't want to think about what she had to offer the manager for one rent free week at the flop house. He had to admit, he was jealous which was confusing for him because he also felt like he should protect her. What was their relationship now? Was he a son? A lover? A companion?

They solved their money problems by getting jobs; he as a motorcycle mechanic and she as a waitress. That put them on different schedules and they saw each other in the wee hours of the morning when she came off shift. Jonathan discovered that he really didn't need sleep which freaked him out a little.

"Think of sleeping and eating as recreational activities now. Do it when you feel like it. Me, I love to sleep; it's like meditating." He discovered he loved watching her sleep.

Some nights they would go out and walk. Sometimes, they would talk their way into clubs. Sometimes, they simply wandered the streets. Jonathan was wary; he'd always had an acute sense of danger. When the mugger stepped out of the alley, Jonathan was ready and easily took him down.

After that, Jonathan grew restless. He didn't like the city the way she did. They decided to buy a motorcycle and go cross-country instead, so he could see America. It was too cold to go North so they headed South through the Carolinas into Georgia then west through the deep South. He laughed as her accent changed to match the local flavor wherever they went. They would stop and take odd jobs in small towns, get to know the people, indulge in the local cuisine and experience the colours.

Outside New Orleans, he had first brush with the supernatural. They went to a plantation house in the process of being reclaimed by the swamp.

"Stay close to me," she warned him. His danger sense went on high alert.

At first the place seemed empty but out of the shadows glided a gaunt male figure dressed in goth-style clothing. Ville stopped and seemed to acknowledge him. The man appeared to defer to her. Jonathan felt them communicating but couldn't pick up their thoughts.

The figure retreated and Ville led Jonathan deeper into the house, to a door that led into a basement labyrinth. Ville took a candle from a shelf and lit it from a burning torch.

Jonathan touched her waist - he found it easier to communicate when in physical contact with her. _'What are we doing here?' _

_'__My presence was requested.'_

_'__By whom?'_

_'__You'll see.'_

They entered a chamber where a small group was gathered around what could only be described as an alter. It was made of stone. A figure lay upon it.

_'__Oh no….'_

_'__Stand back and say nothing,'_ she instructed him as she approached.

A female stood at the head of the altar holding a ceremonial dagger. Ville looked down at the prone figure. He looked directly at her, an imploring look on his face. She laid her hand on his chest and communed with him for several minutes. Jonathan held his breath as she held out her hand for the dagger. The priestess handed it over reluctantly and moved away. Ville held the dagger between her breasts and took the preistess' place.

She spoke in a language he couldn't understand and plunged the dagger into the chest. The creature on the slab didn't react or die right away. Blood ran slowly out of his body and collected in the channel surrounding the altar. Jonathan realised then that the figure was not human. He backed out of the chamber.

The ceremony lasted several hours. When she finally came out, he followed her. They got back on the bike. He didn't speak until they settled into a youth hostel for the night.

"Alright," she said. "Let's hear it."

"I'm having trouble with the idea that my mother is a killer. What's your connection with those…people?"

"Vampires. I've had encounters with their kind before. They call us Immortals. They sensed I was near and called out. Their coven leader has lived almost five hundred years and wanted to die. He considered my participation an honor by the way."

"Wait a minute." He wasn't sure which question he wanted answered first. "An honor to be killed by you? What _kind_ of encounters? What do you mean _us_? You and me or are you saying there are _others_ like you?" His composure had reached its limits. "This is crazy, this is all crazy."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. Your feelings are understandable."

"Understandable? I have no delusions about the things I did in the IRA but I just watched my peace loving mother kill someone."

"My father taught me to answer the call of destiny. They were going to kill him. His kind respect us, they hold us in a kind of awe. How could I refuse him?"

"Your father," he repeated. "So there are others."

"There was my father and his companion. My father created myself then my two sisters. They went out to explore the universe. He's passed on to another plane of existence but his companion is still here on Earth. In fact, you've met him." She paused while her son digested this.

Jonathan sank onto the bed. "The Abbot at Mt. Melleray. This is…."

"A lot to take in at once. I know. I've been trying not to overwhelm you." She sat next to him and put her arm around him.

"Incredible is what I was going for. But my father was human, what does that make me?"

"I'm not sure I can answer that to your satisfaction. You obviously had some latent abilities that have grown since we started this journey but still, you're human. Whether you have the potential to grow beyond that, I don't know for certain but I'm looking forward to finding out." She smiled and hugged him.

"You say I've grown but sometimes I still can't get over the fact that you look twenty-one." He shook his head. "What about Kelly? If we were to go back to Ireland now….?"

"Kelly doesn't exist in this timeline. If we were to go back to Ireland, no one we knew would remember us."

"What about our fathers - hers and mine?"

"In this timeline, they're alive, successful together and each married with a bevy of children. In fact, you've heard some of their music." She reached over and turned on the radio.

_'__Heaven throws wide the doors you open_

_I just can't close_

_Don't turn around, don't turn around again_

_Don't turn around_

_Your gypsy heart'_

"That's them?" Dumbfounded, Jonathan sat and listened to the rest of the song. Then he turned and hugged his mother back. "Thank you."

They hooked up with Route 66 in Amarillo and travelled on through New Mexico, Arizona to the end of the route in Santa Barbara. From there they followed the Pacific coast northward until they reached San Francisco. "There're some people I want you to meet."

When they got to the Bay, however, Ville stopped atop a hill. Smoke hung over the Bay. "Angel Island is on fire. Oh no, no."

Jonathan sensed her panic. "What is it?" He saw further than he ever could before and spotted small fires on one of the islands in the Bay. It appeared over seventy percent of the island had burned.

She pointed, "See the castle near the mountain?" It was in ruins, charred rubble all around.

"That's not where we're going, is it?"

She didn't answer him, just stared off in the distance and murmured, "Oh Derek, what have you done?" Then she wiped her eyes. "Nick'll need our help. Come on."

They made their way down to the ferry. They were told the ferry was closed except to fire crews yet Ville managed to talk their way onto the next boat.

As they moved across the water, he asked, "Are you going to tell me who these people are - Derek? Nick? Friends of yours?"

She explained about the Luna Foundation, how they investigated supernatural phenomena. They studied and explored psychic abilities like telekinesis. "I made contact with the San Francisco House in the 1970's and became the teacher of a teenage boy with the Second Sight - Derek Rayne. His father had recently been killed by an evil spirit. With his dying breath, his father had expected Derek to follow in his footsteps. Derek didn't want to go home to Amsterdam so I arranged to tutor him here. I'm afraid now that Derek has done something very dangerous." She took a deep breath, "I'm not sensing him and I think he's dead."

At the landing, Ville led as usual, threading their way past officials from the fire department, police officers and park officials, making a beeline toward the person she was seeking. "Nick." They threw their arms around each other. "He's gone, isn't he?" she whispered.

"Yeah, babe, he's gone. There's nothing left of the catacombs."

"The portal? What portal?"

"There's a team from London securing it." He shook his head angrily. "We had a plan, it wasn't supposed to go this way."

Jonathan tried to follow their disjointed conversation but was having trouble keeping up. He sensed a connection between the two and realised they weren't just talking. He tried to listen in on their thoughts.

_'__A portal to Hell, to keep the dark side from coming through. It was starting to unseal. We tried reconsecrating the house but it wasn't enough. We were going to blow the house. Everyone was supposed to meet out front by the griffin. He tricked us into leaving him behind. Damn him.'_

_'__He did what he thought was necessary.'_ Then Ville said aloud, "You've been up for two days; you need to get some rest. If London's got control of the site, there's nothing for you to do right now. Let's head out to Rachel's."

Nick allowed himself to be herded to the ferry. He turned to Jonathan. Ville introduced them, "Nick Boyle, Jonathan Evans. My son."

"Son? Aren't you a little old?" Nick said to Jonathan.

"Don't look at me; she was eighty when we left Ireland."

"Now that he's mentioned it, you do look the same as when you left," Nick remarked. "I'm glad you're back, don't get me wrong."

"I wish I'd gotten here sooner. I'm so sorry," she said.

"Just out of curiosity," Jonathan asked, "how long has it been since she was here?"

"Seven years."

Jonathan looked to his mother, _"I don't understand. Seven years ago you were living in Dublin."_

_"__Different timeline, remember?"_

Dr. Rachel Corrigan sent Nick straight to bed. She was a psychologist and seemed to be handling the grief but it had only been two days since losing Derek. "I suppose I'm still a little in shock. I know better but looking back, I feel like I should have seen it coming." She offered them tea.

Ville introduced Jonathan but this time left off the nature of their relationship, then asked, "How is Alex doing?"

"With her enhanced sense of empathy and the feelings she had for Derek, she's still a mess."

"Maybe I should see her. I could do something for her."

"I'm sure you could but she's very raw right now," Rachel cautioned.

As if drawn by Ville's presence, Alex descended the stairs. Jonathan stared. She was stunning. Her skin was cafe au lait and flawless, her hair dark and wavy, her eyes brown and deep. Ville hugged her briefly then looked into her eyes. Alex shook her head, "He's gone. I still can't believe it."

"I know; I've been out to the island."

"Our home is gone. Wherever we go, it won't be the same. Some of the things that were destroyed - they were irreplaceable…." Alex noticed Jonathan. He extended his hand. When she took it, they connected at once. It wasn't the deep sense he experienced with his mother but he could feel the colour of Alex's strong emotions. She felt his awe and admiration and withdrew her hand. "Sorry, I, uhm, it's nice to meet you. Jonathan, isn't it?" She'd gotten his name from their brief contact. He was impressed, "Yeah. I'm sorry for your loss. Maybe we should go?"

"No," Alex said more to Ville, "You're just what we need right now. Nick feels betrayed and I can understand that. You might be able to reach him."

The Legacy's Ruling House in London had sent their top lieutenants to oversee the salvage operation but Alex was right - most of the objects of power stored in the tunnels below the house had been destroyed. The foundation was broken, the tunnels collapsed.

Nick was in an intense phone discussion with the Head of the Legacy to push for rebuilding the house on Angel Island; the portal, while resealed, still required protecting. "The Luna Foundation is capable of rebuilding the house itself without Legacy assistance. I'll oversee it myself."

Ville offered her support. London was influenced by her presence, having verified her identity. Apparently she knew things only recorded in ancient Legacy records and that was enough for them but Jonathan suspected some mental persuasion was involved.

"Thanks for the backup," Nick said after they hung up. "I take it this means you'll be staying around longer than last time," he suggested.

"As long as it takes."

"But that's not why you came here."

Ville admitted, "True. I was hoping Derek…you would take Jonathan on. He has some abilities and the Legacy could be the right place for him. Alex could work with him."

"I'd be seriously messed up if I was him, so yeah, he can stay, too."

"He's also handy with a hammer," Ville quipped then added seriously, "He can help us."

Jonathan turned out to be well suited to supervise work crews between his natural Irish charm and his budding ability to influence people's perception of himself. Ville warned him to be subtle.

He also found time to work with Alex. The two of them sat at the table in Rachel's kitchen. She was performing standard parapsychology tests starting with the card test. He was supposed to tell her the shape on the card but he found the cards boring and preferred to capture their image from her mind. She caught him at it. "You're supposed to read the cards, not me."

He leaned forward, "I'm sorry, I've always had a weakness for beautiful minds."

"Right," she smiled. "So does anyone else in your family have psychic abilities?"

"Uh, may have been," he skirted the question. "Can I ask you some questions? About being psychic."

"Sure."

"When did you know you were…I dunno, different?"

"I was a late bloomer but I have a grandmother who is sensitive to spirits. It really wasn't until I began working with Derek," she paused to avoid choking up, "that I developed my Second Sight. But I'd always been empathetic."

"Don't you find it overwhelming, feeling everyone's feelings all the time?"

"That's not how it works. I usually have to concentrate or have a physical connection. Sometimes the presence of spirits increases my abilities. Are you that sensitive?"

"Well, not at first but more so since I've been traveling with…," he paused.

"How did she become your Teacher? Where did you meet?" Alex was clearly fascinated.

He stuck to the truth as much as he felt comfortable. "We met in Dublin. She was a singer and I was…a fan. I kinda went to her home and met her on the beach. I didn't have any family to speak of so we traveled together, then she brought me to America. We've been crossing the country ever since. Oh, let me tell you about the shaman we met in the desert."

He neatly diverted her from the topic of family and they traded stories. He got her to open up about some of her experiences but he sensed she was holding back. "You have to understand," she told him, "being in this job is a lifetime commitment. A lot of the things we investigate are not meant for general knowledge. Not everyone can handle it."

"But apparently that's why I'm here."

"We'll see. Now back to these tests, young man," she teased.

Jonathan awoke abruptly one night. Sitting up, he tried to figure out what was wrong. He reached out to his mother to warn her but couldn't find her. That was it - the connection was broken. He went to her room hoping she was alright. When he got close, he felt her presence again. _'Stop. Go back to your room. I'm fine.'_

He cornered her the next morning. "What was that last night?"

"I had company, if you must know," she said. "Nick and I had some things to discuss."

Bashfully, he answered, "Sorry. It's just, well, you've never cut me off like that before. I was worried."

"I've been maintaining a connection to you since we got to America so you could learn more easily but now it's time you started doing the work. I've suckled you enough."

Flushing, he agreed reluctantly, "Okay, fine."

He sought Nick out, "Can we talk?"

"Sure. Stout?" he offered Jonathan a bottle.

"Thanks. Oh, the good stuff," he admired.

"Yeah, well, it's not Guinness."

"Just as well. I've discovered you can't grow good Guinness outside Ireland. Cheers."

"Cheers. So what is it you want to know?"

"Are you psychic, too?"

"No, just a jack of all trades basically."

"Me, too. What's your relationship with my mum?"

"You want to know if my intentions are honourable? We had a physical relationship. She saved my life once. Since then, we've had this bond. I'm not very good at it. That basically sums it up."

"You in love with her?"

"I suppose I'll always love her. I was infatuated before but not so much now." Nick changed the subject. "Last night we were discussing your future."

"And?"

"This is not for general knowledge. I'm taking you into our confidence. The Luna Foundation is a legitimate charity. We help people no one else can. But we're also the west coast front for a secret society called The Legacy.

"The world-wide organisation has been around for millennia. We retrieve artifacts and objects of power, deal with spirits, keeping extensive records. We monitor and investigate parapsychcological phenomenon and activity. We're the front line in the battle between the Light side and the Dark side.

"Your mother wants us to sponsor your candidacy in the club. Assuming you're even interested. Some of the work is dangerous."

"I'm somewhat familiar with danger." Jonathan confessed his involvement with the IRA in Belfast.

"So you can handle yourself in a fight. Good, but you could probably use some instruction in hand to hand combat and martial arts. I can help with that." He didn't really care about the kid's past; it was obvious to him that Jonathan was clearly under Ville's influence now.

"You know anything about internal combustion engines?"

"Yea, I worked on motorcycles."

"Good enough. I've got a '65 Mustang that needs some work. Let's go."

Later, Ville elaborated on her history with the Legacy. "My father and I observed them from their early beginnings. They called us the Watchers. My father preferred to be thought of as a Teacher and lost interest but I was excited that many of their members displayed latent abilities like Second Sight, rudimentary telepathy, extreme empathy. I thought it was a hopeful sign that human evolution was progressing to another level."

"Why are you so fascinated with us? You could do anything."

"You have to understand that I grew up with your race. Under my father's influence, I grew to consciousness along with your species. As your kind learned to walk upright, I learned to take material form. As they learned to communicate, I learned to communicate. As they formed societies, I began to form as an individual apart my father's existence in order to interact with your ancestors. But my father taught me to refrain from trying to influence the development of humans, to respect their destiny, to be a Guardian."

"Is that why you let my father die? You could've stopped him."

"No, I couldn't have. Self-determination. Free will. I had to respect his will. He was on a very dark path before I met him. If anything, I extended his life briefly. Look, I know it's hard on you, never having known him and I'm sorry about that."

"But there was nothing you could do. Okay, I get it. And the band - they wanted you, so you had to join them."

"They felt they needed me. They were destined to be a force for good in the world."

"So was I just an experiment in human evolution?"

"I wanted you; I love you. Unconditionally."

"I guess that's as good an answer as I'm going to get."

The house on Angel Island was finally finished. Nick made sure it had an innovative state of the art security system incorporating instruments and monitors designed to detect the signs of spirits and other supernatural entities.

Jonathan felt a sense of satisfaction. The project had taken the better part of a year and Nick had involved him every step of the way.  
Next he began teaming up with Alex on archaeological digs around the world and learned to operate the machinery used to examine finds. He investigated reports of psychic disturbances and hauntings with Rachel. He took piloting lessons and studied combat techniques with Nick.

London had yet to appoint a new Prefect for the San Francisco House. Ville and Nick discussed it at length.

"You should be the next Prefect, Nick."

"Me? London would never go for that. They'll want to bring in one of their own. Someone they can control."

"Not necessarily. Yes, they need someone who knows how to follow protocol but being a Prefect requires independent judgement. Besides, you're not exactly a loose canon."

"Alex has more experience and seniority. She already knows the protocols dealing with London."

"Let's be honest. Alex is too susceptible to your enemies. They've used her and tempted her too many times. Her empathy lowers her resistance. Her strength is also her weakness."

"Are you saying my weakness is my strength - not being psychic or having Second Sight?"

"I don't think it's a weakness."

"I don't know if I'm capable."

"Derek did. Otherwise he wouldn't have given you his Prefect's ring. The one he received from his father."

"How did you know about the ring?"

"If he thought there was a chance he might not make it, he would've wanted to make sure of a successor, just as his father did. Derek believed in you."

"Having the ring doesn't make me a Prefect."

"No, but Derek's dying wish will make an impact on London. You have to tell them you have the ring."

"I don't even know if I want the job."

"You want to take orders from someone else?"

Nick sighed. "Fine, I'll tell them I have the ring."

The spectre of the little girl seemed to stare through Jonathan. He held his breath as if it might blow through her ethereal being. Rachel tried talking to the girl but it held its hand out toward Jonathan. "What should I do?" he whispered.

"Go with your instincts," Rachel replied quietly.

He reached out to the girl. He couldn't feel her hand but it appeared to be gently resting on his palm. She smiled at him and faded. "Where'd she go?"

"Hopefully she's gone to the other side," Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. "We'll stick around and monitor the situation for 48 hours to see if there are any more incidents. Then maybe the Stackhouses can get on with their lives."

"So do you do this alot?"

"Most of the reports of hauntings we receive turn out to have a reasonable explanation or to be a hoax but a few of them are like this one - a spirit who needs help moving on. A rare few are a little more 'exciting' for my taste."

"You mean poltergeists?" Jonathan scoffed.

"You remind me of myself when I first joined. I used to insist on mundane answers first rather than jump to the supernatural ones. Being Irish, I thought you'd be more open," she teased as they got in the car.

"The idea that there's a world alongside ours is very Irish but it still takes some getting used to."

Later that night, he awoke in his hotel room. There was a pocket of cold air at the side of the bed. The little girl was back. "Oh. Hello." She smiled at him and climbed up on the bed. He sat up and scooted out of her way. She appeared to be playing with a doll. He wasn't sure what to do. "So. What's your name?" She didn't seem to hear. "Are you lost?"

From time to time, she would look at him as if they were conversing but she never responded to any of his questions or comments. He reminded himself that he'd seen vampires and that the ghost of one little girl didn't scare him. It was simply unnerving, the silence of the scene. Finally, he found it impossible to stay awake. In the morning, she was gone again.


End file.
